Including a foreword by a woman who once dated him, the perverse, violent stories, poetry, and fantastic scribblings of a man convicted in 1972 of murdering two women chart the killer's extreme pathology.

Gerard Schaefer hated women. No two ways about it. He was a serial killer housed in Florida State Prison (until being murdered by a fellow criminal some years back)with plenty of time on his hands and plenty of ink in his hate-filled pen. The stories in this book aren't for those easily offended. He revels in tales of death,torture,necrophilia and unrelenting sadism. These stories are unlike anything you'll find anywhere else on the market especailly considering that Schaefer was convicted of crimes along the lines of those he writes about. So, despite his claims to the contrary, the reader is left wondering whether he was speaking from experience or merely making it all up. Somehow I doubt the latter is the case. Highly recommended.

One of the more twisted things I've read. 'Tis a collection of short stories written by serial killer Gerard Schaefer. Written both before and after his arrest. They are primarily written from the first person point of view, becoming a sort of literary "Henry: portrait of a serial killer". Schaefer is certainly not a great writer, but neither is he terrible and so he effectively pulls you into his mindset. Some people's moral compass may momentarily feel "dizzy" while reading one of his stories. It's rather sickening. Almost every story details the stalking and strangulation of a woman. And Schafer obsessively details each murder, offering detailed descriptions of EVERY substance that the body emits upon death. Even true crime books usually omit _those_ nauseating details. In the intro, Colin Wilson says he's never read through the whole book, as it induces a "halitosis of the soul". Well said.

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3.0 out of 5 starsMeh

September 15, 2016 - Published on Amazon.com

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It's an interesting book in that you get to follow the thought process of a killer. You can watch him lie, lie about his lying, then lie some more. He was clearly a narcissistic with a Madonna-whore complex. And he had a thing for scat play or making people feel disgusted, because he talks about feces A LOT. His main turn-on obviously is not the killing, it's manipulating others to do something specific or feel something specific. This is very clear by the way he talks to Sondra, who at times he seems to worship, only to then degrade her - much like typical abusive partners. I believe this book was a way for him to satisfy that sense of power through manipulation even while behind bars, because he knew without a doubt the overwhelmingly sickened reactions readers would have. I probably would have quit reading if not for the fact that he reminded me so much of an ex boyfriend.

I was interested to read what a serial killer’s fiction would be like. I think this guy was pretty much an idiot, and his writing is awful. Not awful in a way that’s disturbing because it gives you insight into the mind of a killer, but just plain bad. I can’t believe he managed to kill so many women before getting caught. I lost interest about halfway through, and sincerely wish I could un-read this. Also, I’m glad the author is deceased and isn't profiting from my purchase of this book. He seemed like a pretty awful person, and I feel terrible for his victims and their families.

I had no expectation that this would be literature, or even well written, and in that regard I was not disappointed -- it was puerile and foul. What I did expect was that in spite of my disgust I'd come away with a glimmer of insight that would make it worthwhile. Instead it's just a collection of gross stories that drone on and on and left me embarrassed to have finished the book. I have heard people say that the stories are frightening or even speculate that they are confessions. Frankly they smack of a high school student's locker room braggadocio. For me the most frightening part of this book is Sondra London's underlying obsession with Schaefer.